The Boggart, The Witch and the Wardrobe
by Cielita
Summary: Rated for kissing. Set during book 3. What would happen in Professor Lupin forgot to tell Professor McGonagall that there was a boggart in the closet of the staff room?


The Boggart, the Witch and the Wardrobe 

_Summary: Set during book three. What would happen if Lupin forgot to inform the deputy headmistress that there was a boggart in the teachers' spare robe cupboard? _

Minerva McGonagall charged angrily down the hall, rubbing furiously at a large wet spot on her emerald robes. She once again had made the mistake of not canceling her classes when the flu hit Gryffindor tower and well, to say the least, Minerva was going to make sure that Poppy Pomfrey got an earful for not making sure that the students were taking their preventative medications. That is, right after she changed her robes. 

Minerva tentatively looked at her pocket watch. The next class period was not due to start for another forty-five minutes. Minerva strode into the staff room not paying attention to where she was going. She ran smack into Professor Severus Snape. 

"What in heaven's name is that smell? Have you been turning skunks into perfume bottles again?" Snape asked, inching away from her. Minerva pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him. She decided that it was more prudent to simply ignore him and continue over to the cupboard where the Hogwarts professors stored their extra robes. Minerva often laughed at this cupboard. The amalgam of different robes inside was a tribute to the diversity of the school. Star-studded black for Professor Sinistra, plain black for Snape, ornate, blue and gold, and very small for Flitwick, and of course, a spare set of her own emerald green robes. 

Finally fed up with fussing over the spot, Minerva pointed her wand at the door of the cupboard and commanded it to open. Immediately, a body fell out onto the floor. Minerva screamed and the sound echoed in the empty staff room. The long flowing white hair and beard, the gold spectacles, the elaborate robes, it couldn't be anyone else. She ran to the cupboard and rolled the body of Albus Dumbledore over to face her. His facial features were contorted in pain and his glasses were smashed. His robes were torn and smoke still rose from a large burn in the middle of his chest. A sob of immeasurable fear and sadness caused her shoulders to shake as tears flooded her eyes. 

"No! Albus! Oh, God, no!" She sobbed, clutching him close to her. How had this happened? Why had no one heard the sounds of a battle? Where had she been whilst Albus was being murdered? Minerva couldn't seem to catch her breath. She was hyperventilating. Panic started to rush into her brain along with the adrenaline. Without Albus, she was left to be headmistress of Hogwarts. How would she tell the staff? How would she tell the students? Visions of their thunderstruck faces made Minerva more miserable than ever. Just then, the door creaked open and Remus Lupin walked briskly inside. He spotted Minerva across the room and his expression blanched. 

"Professor! What's happened, Professor McGonagall?" Remus cried as he knelt beside her. 

"I…he…I opened the…he's…I couldn't…there was…I…" 

"Wait. You opened the spare robe cupboard?" 

Minerva swallowed hard and nodded. 

"His body simply fell out of the cupboard at you?" 

Minerva sobbed again and nodded. A strange grin twitched at the ends of Remus' mouth. 

"You! How can you laugh at a time like this? "Minerva wept. Remus produced his wand and pointed it at the corpse. 

"Ridikulus!"

With a puff of smoke, the corpse became a translucent orb hanging above them. Minerva blinked the tears away and stumbled back to her feet. Remus simply looked at her. 

"A boggart, Professor—" 

Minerva waved her hand at him, annoyed at him. 

"I knew that." Minerva said, collecting her clean set of robes and quickly exiting the staff room. Remus Lupin simply stood in front of the cupboard looking after her. Why has she panicked so? Surely, a headstrong, composed woman like McGonagall didn't become hysterical like that unless there was a serious problem. Certainly, the sudden death of the headmaster was a dire emergency, but certainly the first thing she would have done is sound an alarm, right? Why had she panicked so? Remus contemplated this as he stuffed the boggart back into its cupboard. 

Minerva made haste back to her empty classroom and shut the door behind her. She walked quickly to her desk, her heart still pounding and laid her head on her hands. She was grateful that Remus had been there to reveal the boggart, but she was embarrassed that he had seen her make such a fuss. She wouldn't be able to show her face at dinner. She didn't even want to think of what the other staff members would think if they found out. Fearless Minerva McGonagall ruffled by a boggart that even Neville Longbottom could have handled. There was no excuse. Then something else dawned on her. Albus. Certainly Remus would feel the need to inform the headmaster if there was something wrong with his deputy. Minerva allowed but a few more heavy teardrops to fall from her eyes before sitting up and trying to dab them away with her handkerchief. Absorbed in what she might say to those who asked, she didn't hear the even, calm sound of footsteps approaching in the corridor. 

Professor Dumbledore poked his head in the door of Minerva's classroom. He spotted her across the room, near her desk, letting her outer robes slip from her shoulders and land like emerald rain on the floor. He watched her lift a different robe from a nearby chair and pull this one on, adjusting the collar and smoothing the front until she was satisfied with the garment's position. It took all that Albus had not to allow his mind to wander. He was quite certain that Minerva didn't know what he was thinking, but he knew what was going through her mind. As sure as the sunrise, he knew about the boggart and what she had seen. When she looked up, she flushed crimson and stuttered that she hadn't been expecting him. 

"I know, Minerva," he said. 

"Know what?" she asked, feigning surprise. 

"I know about the boggart. But what I don't quite know is why," Albus remarked gently. Minerva averted her eyes. 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"You have never in my experience lost your composure that way. What was it that made you react so today?" he asked, actively pursuing what she was hiding from him. 

"Well, anyone would have panicked! The headmaster dead and no one to raise an alarm? The whole school could have been in danger and no one would have been the wiser! I would hate to think of what this school might be without you, Albus. Why, the Dementors would go about unchecked, Sirius Black would have access to murder whomever he saw fit, why, the Ministry might even get it in their heads that they could take Remus—" 

Minerva didn't get a chance to finish her sentence. Albus had steadily approached her desk as she spoke and when she finally looked up from rearranging things on her desk, Albus reached over lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. 

"Tell me the truth, Minerva," Albus begged. Minerva couldn't seem to find her voice. 

"I couldn't bear the idea of living in this place without you!" Minerva whimpered as new tears peeked at the corners of her eyes and spilled over. Albus took her face in his hands and planted a tender kiss on her lips, effectively silencing Minerva's fears. He pulled back a bit and used his thumbs to brush away the tears falling over her cheeks. In all Minerva's years at Hogwarts and all her thirty-five years of teaching there, Albus had never once shown so much emotion toward her. Of course he had been affectionate—it was his nature—but Minerva never knew that he shared her deeply devotional feelings. The look in his eyes was foreign to her. She had never seen him look at her this way. Part of her knew that look, and part of her was still making excuses to believe that he didn't deeply, passionately care for her, that somehow he couldn't love someone like her. Only Albus knew that she couldn't be more wrong. 

"There, now, no more tears," he murmured. "You'll never be without me." 

"You and your pride!" Minerva wept. "How can you promise me that?" 

"Because I have you, Minerva," he answered softly, gently wiping her tears away as they came. Minerva couldn't seem to reconcile her head with her heart. She was hearing what she had always wanted to hear: Albus loved her. But part of her still felt unworthy of his love. 

"What is it, Minerva?" Albus asked, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. 

"I've been waiting so long for you to say that that I was beginning to think it would never happen or I had been imagining things, or that I was just being a silly girl about things and I—" Once again, Minerva never finished the sentence. Albus pulled her completely into his arms and passionately kissed her mouth, gingerly parting her lips so that he might plunder the treasure within. He wasn't disappointed. Minerva pulled back at first, but as soon as he deepened the kiss, she relaxed and held him tighter. The moments that passed in that kiss were some of the sweetest either could remember. When they parted lips, breathless and gasping for air, neither could seem to find the words to express what had just happened. The two concluded that nothing need be said for now. This was a good thing, for as they looked up, Minerva's third year transfiguration students sat stunned in their seats, some frozen in shock as they bore witness to the confession of love that occurred before them. 

Minerva felt the blush creeping up the back of her neck and spreading up her cheeks. Albus pursed his lips and shut his eyes for a moment, for once in his life unsure of what to do. Politely, Albus kissed Minerva's hand and swept out of the classroom, not stopping to justify the dumbstruck looks on the students' faces. 

"Professor," murmured Hermione Granger in a dreamy, girlish sort of tone. "That was so sweet!" 

"If everyone would please take out their textbooks and turn to the next chapter, we will turn porcupines into pincushions today," Minerva said, turning to the chalkboard. 

"How long have you and Professor Dumbledore been—" 

"That will be quite enough Miss Granger. It is neither the time nor the place," Minerva insisted, instantly silencing Hermione. Ron shook his head and Harry fought to contain a giggle. Minerva kept her back to her students for a while. She didn't want them to see her face until she was sure that the blush was gone. 

After the school day was over, Minerva made a hasty retreat back to her quarters and shut herself inside. She turned to find Albus sitting at her desk and nearly jumped out of her skin with fright. 

"Albus! Oh, you gave me a start!" she cried, stooping to pick up her books and stacks of parchment. Albus only turned and chuckled. A wave of his hand brought her books and papers back into order and levitated them all the way to the desk. With this done, he rose and crossed the room to Minerva, easily pulling her into his arms and kissing her. 

"How did your classes go today?" he asked casually. 

"Must you ask that?" she grumbled. Albus laughed. 

"Were they that cruel, my dear?" he quipped. 

"Just the looks on their faces. The girls seemed to heartily enjoy watching us, but the boys managed to maintain a look of utter disgust," Minerva lamented. 

"Sounds entirely entertaining my love," he said. Minerva froze for a moment. 

"What did you call me?" 

"Was that wrong of me to assume? If you're uncomfortable with—" 

This time, Albus was the one unable to finish a sentence. Minerva pressed her lips over his, making Albus tingle from head to toe. 

"I take it that I was right?" he asked softly. Minerva nodded. 

"Now," she said. "I can think of something more entertaining to do than talk. Interested?" she teased. Albus smiled as he smoothed his hands over her back. 

"Oh, yes," he said quietly. "Please do elaborate." 

* * *


End file.
